


To Be a Man

by drelfina



Series: Konoha is the Clownfish AU of the shinobi world [10]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Clownfish AU, F/M, Founders Era, M/M, Multi, Other, READ THE TAGS CAREFULLY, Uchiha Izuna Lives, a study of masculinity, because this is just that sort of au, born a girl Hashirama, born a girl Tobirama, but it's not quite crack, but what if it COULD have happened, clownfish jutsu, clownfish jutsu helps until it doesn't, gender in East Asian culture, i'd say trust me but i honestly don't know about this one, it creates as many problems as it helps, my sense of humour shows up, no there's nothing particularly historical about this, performance of gender, technically a clownfish au, the perfomative nature of gender, the true relationship here is the sibling relationship, there's a tone shift eventually, to be fair most of the pairings are relatively minor, what does it mean to be a man?, what happens when Butsuma's heirs die
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-04-06
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:01:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23214484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drelfina/pseuds/drelfina
Summary: Butsuma had two sons and two daughters.But after the deaths of his heirs, Butsuma made a choice.His linehadto continue.Butsuma makes a choice after his sons die.In other words: What does it mean to be a man?
Relationships: Senju Hashirama & Senju Tobirama, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Hashirama/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: Konoha is the Clownfish AU of the shinobi world [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1330769
Comments: 296
Kudos: 389





	1. Prologue: Out of Necessity

**Author's Note:**

> Technically this is a rather asian-ish take on "born a girl" trope, but also, it's a look at the performative nature of gender roles, specifically in ancient East Asia (sort of a mash-up in Chinese and Japanese... feel). 
> 
> Evocates, please don't kill me. 
> 
> I honestly don't think it counts, specifically, as a trans- narrative, because the nature of these gender roles are so _different_ from how we perceive gender roles today in Western society (and even in my own country now) that while this trope is very popular in contemporarily made C-dramas and even some J-dramas/movies, the conclusions I've arrived at is ... rather different from what is normally portrayed. It is also not a cis-het narrative either. 
> 
> I guess the only way is, it's kind of queer; it's a look at a certain kind of masculinity.
> 
> Enjoy I guess????

Gou was only eight when she got the news, practicing her aim on the posts within one of their training fields. 

Tobirama was dead. 

They'd found his body speared through. 

She hadn't known what to feel, when she had been bid to go to her father at once. 

Tobirama had promised, after this mission, to go with her down to the markets in the nearby civilian town to look at the set-up for the upcoming midsummer festival.

It felt like it was just words, _Tobirama is dead_. 

But when she went to her father, her Aneue already there, kneeling beside Tobirama's body, suddenly the words became real. 

Tobirama was _dead_ , like Hashirama before him. 

Butsuma let them cry - just like he'd let them cry over Hashirama's coffin, but not for very long. 

"That Uchiha bastard," he'd said, motioning towards the east, towards the Uchiha complex, "has sons galore. And now with both _my_ sons dead, I have no heirs." 

"They couldn't have targeted them specifically," her older sister, Matsu said, looking up, voice still hoarse from crying. "It wasn't like they were wearing anything _specific_." 

They had to have been just killing any young Senju of the right age, Gou thought dully. 

And now it meant their line ended here, their father without sons.

"Without an heir..." Butsuma said, echoing Gou's thoughts, but then his voice trailed off, staring at the two of them, specifically at Gou, who hadn't had time to tie her hair back properly when she'd come straight from the training grounds, and it trailed in a long tail next to the coffin. 

"No," Butsuma said. "Get up, Hashirama." 

Gou's confusion was reflected on Matsu's expression. They were dead, Gou almost said, that wasn't - 

Butsuma reached down and pulled Matsu up by the arm. "Hashirama," he said. And over her Aneue's shoulder, "Tobirama, get up." 

Gou stared longer, and then started to get to her feet - and recognised the sharp nod of approval from her father. 

_She_ was to be Tobirama, she realised abruptly. And - 

"But everyone knows you had two daughters and two sons," Aneue said. 

"I now have no daughters," Butsuma said. He dropped Aneue's arm, and pulled out a kunai. 

Before Aneue could react, he'd sheared off her long chestnut hair where it'd been tied into a knot.

Gou went still, staring at the heavy fall of hair to her Aneue's feet. Her gaze cut to her brother's body, his short, pale, almost shaggy hair, and took a step forward towards her Father, and took the kunai from his hand. 

She twisted her hair up and sliced it off too, before dropping the long white tail of it to the ground next to Aneue's. 

"Good," Butsuma said. "You're going to have to step up your training now." 

She didn't look away from Father's face. "Yes Father," Tobirama said.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to Evocates for all the explanation and help with the names, the use of, the history of, the tradition of, etc. aaaaaah. 
> 
> Matsu(松), now Hashirama: when addressed formally and respectfully, (ie by servants), would be Omatsu (お松) where the kanji means pine tree. When addressed by her younger sibling, it'd be Matsu-onee-sama, or Aneue. 
> 
> Gou (江), now Tobirama: when addressed formally and respectfully, would be Ogou (お江), where the kanji means River. Otherwise, she would be called Gou by her older siblings, and if she had a younger one, she'd be Gou-nee-san.
> 
> (Titles for siblings in Japanese families are not… quite as 'easy' as Chinese, so uh. hooray) 
> 
> O- was a respectful prefix for women's names in the Warring states period (戦国時代, Sengoku Jidai) which is what the Founders Era period is based on. 
> 
> While the names of women have a bit of a "My wife just gave birth to a daughter and I looked out the window and saw a river, so I guess my daughter's name is River" feel, it's a bit more complicated than that. 
> 
> In traditional, pre-modern East Asia, names are so complicated, and generally you don't call someone by their given name (because RUDE AS FUCK). Even the idea of 'given names' is a very western concept, because the name you get given as a child is usually not the name you are called as an adult. 
> 
> So in Japan of this era, children are given something like baby names - these can be all sorts of things like, onomatopoeia, to "random" objects. Usually for boys, if they survive to roughly 14, they're given Actual Names. if they live on, they also end up accruing titles and other epithets and yet more courtesy names as they continue achieving shit. No one ever calls them by baby-name ever again. 
> 
> Girls USUALLY get a title when they marry, and no one ever calls them by their childhood names because _rude as fuck_. if they go on to achieve stuff, they sometimes acquire titles too - like Yodo-dono, who was so famous and accomplished, she was literally named for a fucking castle. You talk about the castle, you're talking about HER. 
> 
> So it's not JUST misogyny that women appear to have Really Thoughtless names - they're rarely ever called that in public. 
> 
> I know it's a little confusing to not have named the girls Itama and Kawarama, but those are really Very Male Names. So I imagined that, while Matsu was the oldest, she was not named Hashirama - but instead the first boy was. And the next boy was named Tobirama, while Gou was named, well, Gou. Itama and Kawarama were for the next two boys - who never got born, if that makes sense? 
> 
> I haven't gone the Full on traditional route because even I can barely wrap my poor banana brain around it so one name change is enough, and we're going to pretend that Butsuma's Real Sons (TM) had had Baby Names that they'd already outgrown, while their sisters, being still fairly young and not having married yet, would not have had proper titles and names and blah blah blah. 
> 
> Okay? Okay.
> 
> And YES I know that in pre-modern East Asia you REALLY don't fucking cut your hair. Tiny Baby Itama, Kawarama and Tobirama had some REALLY modern hair-cuts, which can be excused as "children have whatever haircuts their parents desire" because honestly when they get older, they thereafter do NOT cut their hair. Girls generally don't cut their hair at Any Stage Really. Cutting one's hair when you're an adult has a LOT OF SIGNIFICANCE, namely fucking cutting your link to your parents and ancestors. But in this case... I'm using it to show _other_ things, and we're all going to just remember that adult!Tobirama still has his Short Ass Hair because Kishimoto is clearly a great character designer, but he's not adhering to any sort of historical accuracy, and this is Not Really a proper reflection of the time-period. if someone ever drew Tobirama and Hashirama in period-appropriate hairstyles, they'd look very very different.


	2. Part 1: To be the True Heir

Hashirama was an idiot. 

She didn't need her sister to tell her so, Tobirama glaring at Hashirama as she shoved a new change of clothing at Hashirama. 

"Of all things," Tobirama snapped. "Making friends with some _unknown_ clan's boy!" 

Hashirama made a sad noise. "Tobira, it wasn't so bad," she protested, but didn't protest Tobirama reaching up to yank a comb through her hair, pulling plant and grit debris out to scatter in tiny plinks on the floor between their feet. 

"Not so bad," Tobirama said. "I'm sure it's not so bad to end up with a kunai in the gut." 

"He was barely armed," Hashirama protested. "And you know I can protect myself." 

"A tree sprouting out from nowhere would protect your life, sure," Tobirama said, shoving Hashirama around roughly so she could attack the front of Hashirama's hair. "But there's literally only _one_ Clan in this area who has anything _like_ a mokuton." 

"I would have been _subtle_." 

Tobirama glared at her, and Hashirama's fingers twitched, and Tobirama's gaze flattened even more when the comb in her hand shivered. 

" _Aneue_ ," she said and. 

Tobirama only ever used Aneue in private - what she deemed really, completely, private. Which, in a Clan such as theirs, was rare. 

That particular emphasis, however, was Tobirama being _extremely_ serious. 

"Tobirama." 

Tobirama took a deep breath, fingers tightening on the comb, before she made herself loosen her grip, and transfer it to her other hand.

"It's not just your life," Tobirama said. Her voice had gone quiet, low, what was essentially her normal register now. "What if he'd found _out_?" 

Hashirama rocked back against her heels for a moment.

"Do you think your Anija so useless, as to not be able to keep that a secret? I've been doing it for a year now." 

At twelve, Hashirama was starting to grow, and now had some significant height on her younger sister, who still looked like a slender child, androgynous in the pale yukata tied loosely about her waist. 

Tobirama snorted. "You're generally useless," Tobirama muttered. But she'd dropped her combative gaze, and Hashirama reached out to ruffle her hand into Tobirama's short, still-shaggy hair. Tobirama always kept her hair short now, and after a year Hashirama no longer thought it a pity. 

"Hn," Hashirama said. "It'll be fine. It's not like anyone would really _suspect_." 

Not when there were just as many girls out there learning their parents' trade in the art of killing; who would suspect anything otherwise? 

"As long as you didn't give him your name," Tobirama said, finally, and batted Hashirama's hand out of her hair. "Then you can be just any girl dressed like a boy." 

"Ah," Hashirama said. 

"... you _didn't_ ," Tobirama said. 

"Well." 

Tobirama jabbed her in the chest with the comb - it sprouted into useless soft vines, and Tobirama hissed, and stabbed Hashirama in the shoulder, other hand coated in sharp watery needles that Hashirama almost blocked, but then at the last minute allowed to land. 

Tobirama was right to be angry - and Hashirama had been stupid, after all. 

"Ow," Hashirama said after a moment. 

Tobirama glared at her, before dropping the needles, letting them melt into harmless droplets on the floor. "You're an _idiot_ , Aneue," she said. "But," she brightened a little, "you're not meeting him again, right?" 

Hashirama smiled brightly at Tobirama. 

Tobirama didn't even _move_ , but the water in the tub shimmered threateningly. " _Aneue_."

* * *

Not long after meeting that boy down near the river, Hashirama met him on the battlefield. 

Hashirama was the middle point between twelve and thirteen, hugely aware of the armour on her shoulders, Father by her side, and she'd looked across the battlefield and saw the boy by _his_ Father's side and. 

Tobirama would laugh. 

Tobirama would also probably stab Hashirama in the head with - with whatever came to hand, because in some ways Tobirama was very much Butsuma's child, prone to physical display of emotion, particularly when it was Hashirama's own actions that provoked her. 

(But then, Tobirama only ever did that when they were in private, only when it was just the two of them, because … years ago, both of them had learned to be restrained, to be quiet, to only speak when absolutely necessary, to be quiet support. This was nothing but to their advantage, now that they wore Hashirama's and Tobirama's names, because it was a sign of maturity that their brothers had not gotten the chance to grow into.)

And now across the battlefield was the boy she'd met by the river, and Tobirama was _right_. 

Hashirama was - had been - _Stupid_. 

" _You_ ," the boy _Madara_ , said, when they clashed blades, their fathers trying their best to kill each other, and Hashirama had just Madara's surprise and shock to prevent her from being pushed too far back. 

"Me," Hashirama said, and tried to smile. 

But it was the first battle she'd ever attended, the first real one, against the Uchiha. This wasn't a mission, one appropriate for the Senju Clan Heir, to sneak in and steal information, goods, or life. 

This was a full on fight, with shouts of jutsu and the clang of metal against metal ringing all about them, and her opponent was the boy from the river. 

He didn't yell about her lying to him - because it wasn't like he had divulged his clan to her either, but instead he swung his sword, and she had to meet him, blow for blow, as fast as he could move. 

But he was, after all, Uchiha and they were speed of fire and when pressed, her taijutsu and kenjutsu was only so far, only so good, and then finally, she had to reveal the mokuton. 

(Because he was a friend, yes, but Hashirama knew the duty of a son to their Father, and Tobirama was too young yet to go onto the battlefield to face _Madara_ , and shinobi… didn't fight with just their strength of bodies after all.) 

With the mokuton, it had been enough to push to a draw, to hold the boy from the river in place while her Father dealt with the Uchiha, hold off till Father called for a retreat to count losses in men and gains in land. 

Afterwards. 

Afterwards, Tobirama carefully undid Hashirama's clothing, ran water-cool hands over skin till the ugly gashes healed into thin scars. 

"I," Hashirama said, looking at her wrists, and they were suddenly too delicate, suddenly too _weak_. "I am not his _equal_." 

"Nonsense," Tobirama said, hand on Hashirama's shoulder, finger-widths above the bandages over her bicep. "You have the mokuton, it saved you, didn't it? You said it yourself, it would protect you." 

It had. It did. But she was not _physically_ strong enough, not against the Uchiha. 

"We're shinobi, not samurai," Tobirama said, reaching up to undo Hashirama's headband, let her hair fall into her eyes. 

It was getting long again, and… and she supposed she would be coming to the age when she wouldn't need to cut it, not anymore. 

"We don't need _strength_ ," Tobirama said. "Jutsu, and strategy, they are more than enough." 

"But," Hashirama said, and let it linger there, between them, the shadowed shape of her chest bound lightly under bandages. Light, barely there padding, mainly because of the armour, but also a warning for the future. 

Age would come, and no one could stop time. After a point… 

"Am I Father's real heir," Hashirama said, and the bitterness was like lemon rind, sharp and thick. 

Tobirama was silent, and put away the bandages, folding them back into the box. "Don't go meeting him again, that boy from the river," Tobirama said instead. 

_What if he found out?_ Hashirama thought she could hear echoed in Tobirama's mind, but it wasn't that. 

Hashirama most definitely wasn't going to tell Tobirama who that boy was, near the river, and how she was suddenly aware how her own body wasn't quite enough.

"You are Father's heir," Tobirama said. "Just like I will be your support on the battlefield when the time comes."

Tobirama paused. "Aneue." 

Father's heir, Hashirama thought, looking at Tobirama, the way she was still so slender. A willow by the river. Against Madara, Tobirama would break. 

(Would _Tobirama_ have broken? Would _Hashirama_ have broken, if they'd lived to now?) 

(Would Hashirama have needed the mokuton to brace against Madara's sword?) 

" _Anija_." 

Hashirama shook herself, looking up at Tobirama's narrow darkened gaze. 

"I'm glad to have your support," Hashirama said. "Grow up faster, Tobira." 

"You would have me defy nature, and time, just on your say so," Tobirama sniffed. 

"Didn't you promise, once, you'd do anything for me?" Hashirama said, and Tobirama rolled her eyes. 

"Yes, Anija," Tobirama said, mockingly, "I would do anything for you, including bring the sun and stars down, and break the moon in half. For you, I would grow up faster to be the sword at your side because the Uchiha are scary." 

"Oh _you_ ," Hashirama said, and dragged Tobirama in for a hug, despite her protests.

* * *

Hashirama's control of her mokuton increased over the next handful of years. 

It was a good thing, because she was otherwise outclassed in close-ranged combat; and for the most part, the Uchiha were honorable enough combatants that they _would_ choose to engage as so. 

Tobirama, on the other hand, took to swordplay like the sword was an extension of her own hands, and when she joined the battlefield herself, taller than her age, she and Hashirama managed to beat back Madara enough to really threaten him, before the Uchiha called a retreat. 

The next round, however, Tobirama got her own rival.

* * *

Half the time, Tobirama thought, Hashirama seemed to literally not _remember_ what she was. What _they_ were. 

Most of the Clan had settled easily into that, too, if only because Butsuma had _said_ so, and his word was iron-clad law. 

At almost fifteen, now, Hashirama was sitting in on meetings with their Father, while Tobirama was training to be tougher, _faster_ , using the short errands she was assigned to increase her speed. 

She had had two close calls herself, by now, skirting the Uchiha patrols by the skin of her teeth. Unlike their dead siblings, Tobirama had slightly higher stakes to consider, one more secret to hide under the layers of her clothes and armour, and while her brothers had had _them_ as backups, (essentially), Tobirama knew she was the final one. 

The last one. Hashirama's only back-up, the last child of their father's. 

"Hashirama has a good head on his shoulders." 

She paused in her training, shoving hair and sweat out of her eyes. Her eyesight wasn't the best, but her hearing was keen, and that was one of Father's advisors. 

"Keen mind for strategy," said the other, as they passed by the training yard. 

"Pity…" 

They turned away, back along a hallway and Tobirama swallowed. 

Pity. _Pity_. 

Pity they weren't _real_ boys, because there was no way that they could continue… 

Continue. 

Tobirama exhaled, slowly, and turned back to the taijutsu forms she was working through. First, second, third. Repeat. 

And sometimes - Hashirama had _doubts_ , and Tobirama knew what they were, the unspoken words between them. The deficiency of their bodies - naturally weaker, which meant that they shouldn't be frontline fighters. But with them being heirs, being Butsuma's _sons_ , there was no other place for them but the front lines, and that could only be exposing a weakness for the Uchiha to exploit. 

And the Uchiha had made an expertise in _exploiting_ weaknesses. 

Tobirama inhaled, exhaled. Another round of the forms. Fourth, fifth, sixth. 

A pity. A pity they were deficient, a pity they couldn't really continue the line. 

Or… _could_ they? 

Tobirama stood there long enough that the post Tobirama had been practicing taijutsu against grew limbs and poked her in the shoulder. 

"I have it," Tobirama said, while Hashirama blinked at her. "Leave me alone, Anija, I have it now." 

"Have what? Tobira - Father wants us to -" 

"Tell Father I'll see him after dinner," Tobirama said, shoving past Hashirama to run past towards her own rooms. She had to write it down, and figure out the seals soon. 

It would work. It _should_ work.

* * *

It worked. It _worked_ , and Tobirama showed it to Hashirama. 

There would be further testing, definitely, but.

Hashirama's spread fingers, and Anija looking down, and then back up to Tobirama. 

"Tobirama," Hashirama said, "You -" 

"Yes," Tobirama said, giddy with it. 

"We must tell Father," Hashirama said. 

"Really?" Butsuma said, when they told him, and he kept staring at them, hands on his knees like he didn't dare believe his eyes. 

"Yes, Father," Hashirama said. "There is no longer any risk, not from that quarter." 

"Oh," Butsuma said, and the look he gave to Tobirama was - something. Beyond pride, beyond approval. 

Tobirama looked to Hashirama, and the smile on Hashirama's face was blinding. 

"Thank you, Tobira," Hashirama said. 

Tobirama glowed, seeing the settled, beaming contentment in Hashirama's face, in the set of Hashirama's shoulders, thrown back and tall. 

"I did my best," Tobirama said, and he smiled back at his Anija. 

No more risk, Tobirama thought, and their line was safe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The goddamn pronouns. The goddamn PRONOUNS. 
> 
> The problem is - in a way gender in this time period has a huge performative component. When I read the Heian novel [Torikaebaya Monogatari](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Torikaebaya_Monogatari) in university, it was a very strange sort of story but it also, now looking back, was also a commentary on gender roles. 
> 
> Add in the fact that I've never, ever, been wedded to my assigned gender - i just do not feel PAIN and ANGST at being 'misgendered' or identify as the opposite or other genders enough to make the effort to use different pronouns (I mean, who has seen that tumblr post wandering around about gender: "I dunno, i just work here"?) 
> 
> And I have this fic. Where Tobirama and Hashirama, once they'd been assigned male roles… kind of go with it. Hashirama, explicitly, is stated to keep "forgetting" that s/he was a girl at first - and really Tobirama's paranoia is a lot more with "being discovered" rather than anything else like dysphoria. 
> 
> If I am correct, the Japanese personal pronouns one uses to refer to oneself can indicate one's gender _role_ ; it is very much like this in Chinese as well, - or rather, it was. After a year of using pronouns appropriate to their statuses as Butsuma's sons… well, Hashirama and Tobirama clearly feel more comfortable with male-typical pronouns and would not be adverse to having their physical bodies match. 
> 
> There is also a little… uh Look, if we looked at the actual abilities of men versus women, there is so much overlap in physical strength because of the variations within sexes that it's not REALLY true that men are physically stronger than women. (I'm not going to go into the actual studies, nor am I going to go into the minute differences and definitions of 'strength').
> 
> But girls DO have a tendency to have less upper body strength around puberty in comparison to boys; couple that with somewhat period beliefs of strength differences between the sexes, and you have Hashirama's fear that she, as female-bodied, wouldn't be strong enough to be her father's heir. 
> 
> Now, as shinobi who are all in peak physical form? This should not be a real concern by the time they're all adults - different fighting styles suitable for different body types, would more than compensate for any minute differences in physical strength. But then you add in social issues - the sons of Butsuma MUST fight head on, against the sons of Tajima. Assuming Madara and Hashirama start puberty at the same time, Madara's upper body strength will outpace Hashirama's rather quickly, and in these volatile years of puberty, Hashirama would be at disadvantage for a while, and that? Is a weakness that could very possibly kill Hashirama on the battlefield. 
> 
> If that makes sense!
> 
> * * *
> 
> Also the next update won't be so fast - only in the next five days or so. maybe longer. /shrug


	3. Part 2: To be a Good Son

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What does it mean to be a Good Son?
> 
> To do a Good Son's Duties.

The jutsu worked well enough for their purposes. 

Every mission Tobirama left on, unless it was absolutely necessary to deliberately lay false trails of a woman doing the deed, he kept the jutsu on, in addition to a henge. He was distinctive enough in looks that while he could fight his way out if necessary, if a mission called for secrecy, people would still remember white hair and red eyes. 

But the jutsu was just that - a jutsu. It was an added layer of armour that settled Tobirama's Anija in his skin, gave him the confidence to stride forward in battle. 

In fact, this confidence, despite Father's own advisors _knowing_ the truth of it, seemed to override all memories of Matsu. Even not using the jutsu, Hashirama was their Father's heir in truth, his voice ringing out on both battlefield and in the discussion halls. Even when not using the jutsu, Hashirama strode firm and tall in their hallways, long hair a dark flag of arrogance and pride, rather than the soft curtain it once was. 

There were still those meetings with the boy by the river, Tobirama knew. But the risk was much lower, now, and Anija's fear of not being _enough_... well. 

By the time Anija was sixteen, fully blooded on the battlefield and more than a match against Uchiha Madara, he was Father's second in battle and strategy, his word second to only Father's in the choice of who and where to deploy. 

Sixteen, and he was ridiculously tall, angular planes of his face adding power and authority to his already increasing stature. In a handful of years Hashirama would challenge even their Father for towering height.

His fears - 

The jutsu had done nothing but given them both a single inch of height the first time. Two days after, Tobirama had had to dismiss the jutsu - because there had been something draining about it, something that clouded his mind, and if nothing else terrified Tobirama, it had been the loss of his mind. 

The height remained, but he had had to adjust the jutsu somehow. 

Now, a week was the maximum he could push using it for, before it started to drain the bones, make them brittle and hollow in a way he just couldn't stop, couldn't make otherwise. As much as Hashirama had faith in Tobirama's abilities, there was no way Tobirama could truly break nature. Bend it, a while, but nature had a way of clawing back a payment tenfold. 

A week was enough for most missions, a day more than satisfactory for the battles that they fought between their clans' lands. 

Even without the jutsu, Hashirama stood now like a tree, planted his feet and would not give. When missions called for subtlety it wasn't for Hashirama - no. Hashirama's power was in his strength, having swerved past the initial worry of the first battle, and gone on to swell like a rapidly growing oak, spreading out to eat the sunlight. 

Father had more than once said, Hashirama was the one who would lead them to victory.

There had been no irony in his voice, no pity. It had been sincere. 

And then. 

Hashirama started to talk about peace.

* * *

Hashirama knew that Tobirama knew he was still talking, still meeting Madara by the river banks. They didn't keep that kind of secret from each other. But after Tobirama had made that jutsu, the level of risk was so low as to be practically non-existent, and Hashirama had the mokuton and his own proven battlefield prowess. 

Madara was powerful, no doubt about that, and when he developed his mangekyou, Hashirama's attempt to keep him at a draw was no play at all. 

"One day," Madara said, finally, hefting a stone in his hand, looking up at Hashirama. 

Hashirama was taller than him by more than a hand's breadth, almost ridiculously so, putting yet another layer of safety between them even as Hashirama mourned the fact he could no longer meet his friend in the eye. 

"One day?" he asked. 

"One day we will have to kill each other," Madara said. 

He had brought no sword with him - just like Hashirama had not. Neither needed a sword to do lethal damage, not now, both of them past the age of sixteen and more than on their way into the full length of power. 

"We don't have to," Hashirama protested. "Our fathers -" 

"My father hates the Senju," Madara said bluntly. "Three of my brothers are _dead_." 

Hashirama twitched. 

He didn't want to talk about it - but he knew when they'd died. A few months after his own brothers.. The first of Madara's brothers had fallen in battle, and the Senju had been _pleased._

"It is war," Hashirama said, quietly. 

"It is." Madara exhaled, and dropped his pebble into the water. "They … Izuna doesn't even really remember them, but I do." 

And when Madara looked up, over the wide river, he looked so _old_. 

"If," Madara said, very quietly. "If only…" 

His voice trailed off, and the breeze tugged lightly at the wild tangle of his hair. 

Hashirama kept his hands by his sides. 

"If only there was a place," Madara said, "if we didn't have to have _war_." 

"Ah," Hashirama said. "Like the river?" 

Madara blinked, glanced back at Hashirama, and the way shadows caught at the curve of his mouth was like the arc of a dove's wing. "Yeah, I guess. Like the river." 

A place, Hashirama thought, like the river. Where it had been easy enough to meet each other without clan-names, without anything but two people who liked to skip rocks together. Where names didn't matter like _that_.

* * *

Hashirama was almost seventeen when Butsuma asked him and Tobirama to come to him after their meetings with the others of the clan. 

"You keep talking about peace." 

Hashirama bit his lip. He'd tried not to be too obvious about it - but everyone was _tired_ , children young as five were already grimly picking up sticks as kunai and not dolls.

When he had been five, he doubted he remembered it as anything different, but from the lofty age of almost-seventeen he could look at the whipcord leanness of his brother, a pale line like the honed blade of a ninjato, and think, _That doesn't have to be right, does it?_

(Madara's words kept echoing in him, _A place, like the river_.) 

But it was something that they had all grown up doing. Tobirama had taken quickly to the quicksilver of the blade, fluid as water and as powerful as a tsunami. 

Where Hashirama had to focus on strength and power, to slam a foot in the ground and stake a claim, Tobirama could dart like brook, twisting like the curve of the Naka River and open his own path. It was only right, the two sons of Butsuma to fit together like so, an immovable rock in the rush of a river, but did it _have to be like this?_

The Clan approved - already Tobirama, thirteen and flexible like a whip, was training younger clan members; when he was in the clan compounds between missions, he would be followed by five or six youngsters at any one time. Teaching them the art of _war_. 

But Hashirama didn't _want_ to keep planning and strategizing for war - he could see that it would never end until one or the other Clan was gone. The only end-point that anyone else could see was the annihilation of the Uchiha, and all Hashirama could see was the sparkle of sun on the river, and the tilt of Madara's jaw to the light. 

The annihilation of a Clan ran the risk of losing not just that, but also there would never be a chance for Hashirama's little brother to ever meet that boy by the river, to hear his stories of what made Madara's little brother so much like Tobirama and his students. 

Annihilation ran the risk of _loss_ , and for all his father's confidence in Hashirama's ability to finally route the Uchiha and drive them in and to … eliminate them, Hashirama didn't know how many of Tobirama's little students would be lost to that. 

(Would he lose his own brother? And unlike … other brothers, Tobirama was the only one who could, and would, change the world on Hashirama's word.) 

"I know you want the war to end," Butsuma said, heavily. And he was looking at Hashirama and Father was not _stupid_ , he wasn't, and Hashirama _knew that_. "To be so tired at such a young age," he said, and then tossed a scroll to Hashirama. 

"I've opened negotiations." 

"You have?" Hashirama blurted, flicking open the scroll with his thumb, and for a moment he tried to imagine Butsuma and Uchiha Tajima actually _talking_ about peace… 

But the name in the scroll was _Uzumaki_. 

"You are opening negotiations with Uzushio," Tobirama said.

"Your brother," Butsuma said, and there was no particular emphasis on the word _brother_ , "should get married." 

To a skilled fuuinjutsu expert, Hashirama read. If the Uzumaki were to agree, said expert and any other such experts in seals would not just lend their skills to their new allies, but it would turn the tide of war. 

"There are no sons of the Uzumaki," Tobirama said, quietly. 

"What need have I of an Uzumaki _son_?" Butsuma said, and both Tobirama and Hashirama stared up at him. 

"The path to peace," Butsuma said. "Is in your hands, Hashirama."

* * *

"It shouldn't be a problem," Tobirama said briskly, starting to lay out their futon. For all that _technically_ they had their own separate rooms now, they had grown up sleeping in the same room. Tobirama used his own room to store books and set up his own private lab since it was far enough on the same wing of the compound that if he were to have some small accident it wouldn't impact anyone. 

"What," Anija said, startling out of the small daze he had been in. 

"It shouldn't be a problem at all," Tobirama. He didn't need to shed his own yukata to remove any bindings, his own shape had not even started to achieve any sort of curves that required padding even in the most formal of kimono. Anija, on the other hand, had to be bound when he didn't wear the jutsu, so Tobirama went over to start helping him remove it for bed. 

"No, what, what shouldn't be a problem?" 

Tobirama paused with his hands on Hashirama's yukata. "The marriage of course," Tobirama said. "I can do some testing before anything in the contract is solid, but you don't need the jutsu for more than a day. Even half an hour should do it." 

Hashirama stared blankly at him. 

Tobirama frowned and shoved at his shoulders. "Anija." 

"You -" 

"Like I said," Tobirama said, "There are no Uzumaki sons. Not of the proper rank." 

He didn't have to _say_ why. After all, while it seemed like Father had forgotten, Tobirama was exquisitely aware, of all times, what it meant for Father to never ever remember. (It was his role, his _duty_ to remember.) 

Butsuma has no daughters, therefore, an alliance would involve marrying in a daughter of the Uzumaki main family, hopefully one of the most powerful, and her own retinue would include such powerful individuals as to make an alliance with such a small, distantly related Clan worth calling on. 

Hashirama still made no answer, the shadow on his forehead creasing darker, and Tobirama shifted, going down to both knees in front of him. 

"Do you remember asking whether you are our Father's heir?" Tobirama said, and leaned in, hands on his still clothed shoulders. 

Hashirama blinked at Tobirama, the memory flicking before his expression. 

"Marry the Uzumaki," Tobirama said, "And you would be his heir in all ways that matter." 

Because what was the truth, unless it was deeds and action? Hashirama was Butsuma's second in command, and more and more, he was Butsuma's voice in council. His mokuton was the Senju Clan's pride, and his word was their command. Taking the Uzumaki to wife to seal the alliance meant sealing Hashirama's place as the Senju Clan heir and future leader. 

"That-" Hashirama said, abruptly hoarse, and when Tobirama looked at his eyes, they glistened. "That is not the peace I wanted." 

Tobirama didn't know what to say for a moment. 

How could it _not_ be the peace he wanted? 

"Tobira," Hashirama said, reaching up, cupping his hands over Tobirama's elbows. "Do you hate the Uchiha so much?" 

Tobirama worked his mouth. 

There was no hatred in him for the Uchiha, not really. 

When he cast his mind back to the first time he'd beheld his brother's body, he could only remember shock. There had been nothing so harsh and vicious as _hate_. 

And when he looked across the crossed blades to an Uchiha's eyes, he felt only the need to drive them back, away, to _end_ it. 

Father's way was clear: it was not an easy path, but it was an end. An end to the fighting, and a beginning of the Senju's line, an open continuation into the future. 

But it was not Hashirama's peace. Hashirama did not want _that_. Which meant… 

"Anija," Tobirama said, slowly, leaning in close, ignoring the way his brother's fingers dug into his arms, staring into his brother's eyes. "What is the name of the boy by the river?" 

Hashirama blinked rapidly. "I believe," he said, after a moment of silence, "you can guess." 

And the worst of it, Tobirama thought, was that he _could_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so. Tobirama is definitely Butsuma's favourite but Tobirama will do anything for Hashirama. 
> 
> (Even if he doesn't always understand it lol) 
> 
> This might be my favourite part of the fic. 
> 
> I ended chapter 1 with the Clownfish Jutsu that solved ALL of Hashirama's issues… and then I broke the jutsu here - it's not a proper fix. But hey it was _enough_ right? 
> 
> Right until it's actually a cage; because now you're a son in all the ways that it matters, Hashirama, which means _you do a son's duty_. 
> 
> Tobirama loves and honours his older brother, and will do anything Hashirama asks of him…. But it also means Tobirama has his own expectations - he will obey his Anija, but in return he _expects Hashirama to be the Older Brother_. 
> 
> It's my idea of Asian Values ahahahaha.


	4. Part 3: To be a Good Brother

Hashirama tried not to think too hard about the delegate he was supposed to be meeting today. 

Tobirama had been _extremely_ unhappy with him, and had refused to speak to him for an entire day, leaving him alone with the scroll Father had given him, for once in their entire lives, deliberately leaving their room to sleep in his own lab. 

Tobirama hadn't told Father of course, because these were the kinds of things they always kept between them. 

But. 

It's been years since Tobirama had called Hashirama _Aneue_ , now. 

And it meant that things were going to change, no matter what. 

_Marriage_ , Hashirama thought. Marriage to gain an alliance against the Uchiha - which he had known might have happened but it had been a _theoretical_. Something that he mouthed and knew would happen in the nebulous "sometime", as if this "sometime" would never happen. 

He and Madara had always been well-matched, perfectly matched - 

_"So do you want to marry him instead," Tobirama had said, voice flat as his gaze, straightening his yukata with sharp, icy motions, pale flashes of the blue veins in his wrists showing stark against the dark navy of his sleeves as he snapped them out._

_"What? No!"_

_"You could," Tobirama said, emotionless and heartless like the edge of his blade and Hashirama had had no idea what he was talking about for almost a full minute._

But it was not an option, Hashirama thought, watching the woman with the Uzumaki delegation bow, lower than the main delegate. He was Father's _heir_. The time of him being - well Father's daughter was so long ago, felt so far away it didn't seem real, not anymore, even during his own cycles. 

He'd worked hard to become Father's heir, he'd worked to become the second-in-command on the battlefield. The kind of bow the woman was straightening up from? 

He didn't think his knees could bend like that, not with her effortless grace. 

He was, Hashirama thought, and his face couldn't quite form a smile of welcome to the delegates, a man. He was his Father's _son_. 

He'd been treated as Father's son, he was dressed and acted as a man. 

He was a man in every way that mattered. 

There was no way he could be Madara's _wife_ , any more than Madara could be _his_. And there could be no such alliance between two such as they.

* * *

He was every inch Father's son, Tobirama thought, watching his Anija in the talks. 

Tobirama hadn't deliberately kept tabs on Hashirama, but in the intervening weeks between the morning Hashirama had returned to Father's study and now, Hashirama had not been down to the river, not once. 

Perhaps it would be the end of it, Tobirama thought. 

Because this was a better, clear road to peace. The Uzumaki had seals that could do almost anything, from storage scrolls far better than any they could make themselves, to legendary barriers and traps that could snap a target in half and leave his companions alone. 

Such fine distinction, such detailed control, it would take years to see the effects and back-engineer, back-design such seals, and in the meantime if the Uzumaki wished to, they could probably slam forward with leaps and bounds through other seal developments. 

In comparison, the _Jutsu_ was laughably crude, and Tobirama would never, in a dozen lifetimes, ever think of showing it to an Uzumaki. 

Therefore, therefore, this was _the_ better choice. The _only_ choice. 

There was never a real need for anything beyond respect in a marriage; Tobirama remembered that, even if Hashirama might have forgotten. Gou would have eventually been married to buy her brothers an alliance, a trade treaty, a symbol of family. 

It was a little less terrifying from this side of the marriage discussion, of course, but in the end it really was the same. One would leave or one would stay to continue the family line, it was the yin-yang, the push and pull of society. 

They were lucky, Tobirama thought, that circumstances weren't quite so dire as it might have been for noble houses amongst the civilians. There were so many missions during which Tobirama had escorted tiny civilian children to their marriage homes, and he had known that at least his Clan had no need to secure political alliances at such a young age. 

Hashirama was seventeen, as was the prospective bride, a fortunate circumstance, and Hashirama was already known as an adult shinobi, the possibility of his mokuton being passed onto his children an undeniable lure. The prospective bride was known to have completed her apprenticeship five years ago, and gone on to become a master herself, though Tobirama did not know the specifics.

All in all, they were well-matched in ability, and like he'd told Hashirama, it would really only necessitate half an hour at most, if he couldn't stand the thought of anyone else but _Madara_. 

The delegates looked charmed with Hashirama, though of course he looked to Tobirama's more critical eyes a little stiff. 

But his smiles and turns of phrase, almost boyish mannerisms were charming to a stranger, and if the delegates had any reservations by this point, there would be none after tonight. 

Tobirama didn't have to look towards Father to know that this was going well, and that Father was pleased. 

So Tobirama kept his head bowed, playing the quiet statue in the background, and made no indication of the way Anija felt like a hollow tree-trunk, brittle and stiff.

* * *

He was not surprised that Hashirama's mood didn't even lighten when he came back to their room, dropping his smile at the door. 

He did look surprised at Tobirama kneeling in the centre of their room though, still dressed in his formal wear. 

"Tobira?" 

"Anija," Tobirama said, fists firm on his knees. 

"You… aren't getting ready for bed? It's late." 

Tobirama looked up at him, and started to untie his obi. Slowly. Deliberately, and as he stripped his layers off, Hashirama slipped forward on soft quiet feet to kneel in front of him, the befuddlement rising. 

"Tobira," Hashirama said, slowly, dark eyes watchful, and Tobirama did not let his movements slow, even when he'd stripped to the waist. 

He had used the jutsu, of course, today, even if it had been a very _long_ day, it was still just a single day. So he had not needed to bind himself, though even at thirteen, he didn't need to bind very much to ensure the smoothness of his silhouette. 

Which meant when he let the sleeves of the final layer fall off his shoulders, Hashirama could see he had dropped the jutsu.

Hashirama caught him by the wrists, before Tobirama could even start to bow.

"What is your point, Tobira?" 

"Anija is dissatisfied," Tobirama said, "And that does not spell for a good marriage in the long run, let alone for a strong alliance." 

Hashirama's silence told him he was right. Tobirama wasn't particularly _proud_ that his deduction was right, not when it was so obvious. 

(Though was it not obvious to Father? Or perhaps, it didn't matter, because when he'd been here, kneeling and thinking, he had thought of the fact that Father and Mother probably hadn't been all that affectionate in the first place, though their marriage had not been the making of a new alliance, but instead the strengthening of an old one.)

"Therefore," Tobirama said, taking a deep breath and continued, clear and deliberate, "since Anija wishes the Uchiha to be involved… _somehow_ -" 

" _No_ ," Hashirama said, looking wide-eyed and somewhat horrified. 

At least, Tobirama thought, his dark mood had scattered from the surprise. 

Hands tightened on Tobirama's wrists - and Tobirama didn't even look down; but it was obvious, how much more female-like - how _feminine_ Tobirama appeared in comparison to his Anija. Even at thirteen, even though he was already taller than his own Uchiha rival, he had not become as broad as his Anija had been at the same age and instead was far more slender. 

It meant, he thought, somewhat distantly, Tobirama wouldn't be completely _distasteful_ to traditional _tastes_ , even if the Uchiha might have something for Hashirama. 

Not that he knew exactly whether Madara returned any feelings for Hashirama the same way that Tobirama could sense Hashirama's longing under that cool brittle mask he'd worn the entire time he'd had to talk to the Uzumaki Delegates. Even Tobirama didn't know if he could feel anything _for_ the Uchiha other than what he was feeling now - the need to make it better for his Anija, the need to cement the peace for his Clan. 

While he didn't understand _peace_ other than a cessation of fighting, he could understand Hashirama's abject horror at the idea of having to wipe out another Clan in order to achieve it. The loss of human life was a _waste_ after all, and while they were ancestral enemies, both Madara and Izuna's control over their jutsu and their fighting styles were … 

He could understand thinking that Izuna dying was a waste, of course, in the intellectual realm. Without someone like him to challenge Tobirama, then there would not be a need to keep striving to get faster, get better with his own skills. 

Without stress, even plants grew odd, fat, lazy pale things. Without friction, blades would never be sharp. 

Therefore, Tobirama knew that this would not be a bad choice. In the end. 

"You cannot marry Uchiha Madara," Tobirama said, "You've said that it was because of how you are both heirs." 

And one day, become Clan leaders. Short of joining their clans together into a super-sized clan, there was no way that Hashirama could become Madara's wife - and unlike Hashirama who had that _option_ , as far as Tobirama could tell, Madara didn't have that option to be wife to anyone either.

Not that Tobirama could even imagine anyone proposing such a thing to Uchiha _Madara_ , a man who, from what Tobirama could tell on the battlefield, was arrogant, somewhat brash, and… well practically a mirror-image of Hashirama himself. He was truly Tajima's second. 

"No," Hashirama agreed, "But … but you cannot either!" 

"I am merely your second," Tobirama said. The spare, as it were. "And he is the Clan Leader. It is only right that if he were to marry a Senju - " the words were a little hard, thick in his throat and heavy on his tongue, "Then he should marry your… Sister." 

"But you're not -" Hashirama stopped. 

Tobirama raised an ironic eyebrow. 

"I at least pass as one," he said, drily. 

Hashirama dropped Tobirama's wrists, but before Tobirama could continue with his line of argument, vines from the floorboards dropped a blanket over Tobirama's head. 

"No," Hashirama said. "My _brother_ doesn't have to make such a sacrifice for me." 

His smile was faint but wry. 

"Even if I am willing?" Tobirama said. 

"Especially because you are so willing," Hashirama said. "Did you not promise to be my second? That you would be my blade?"

"You're throwing my words back at me," Tobirama said, but shoved the blanket off down his shoulders, and started undressing properly (and not symbolically) so as to reach for his yukata before Hashirama's mokuton could drop it on his head too. 

"Whose other words should I throw back at you?" Hashirama said. "You craft things so well, your Anija is left speechless; the only words I know to convince you otherwise is your own." 

Tobirama scoffed. "As your second - as your _heir_ , once you become Clan leader, I would be the best choice." 

"You don't _know_ Madara." Hashirama shook his head, and only when Tobirama redressed properly for bed, in the soft single layer of his yukata did he reach back for Tobirama's hands, gently brushing his thumbs over the soft, too-easily bruised skin of his wrists. "You're the sword at my back, Tobira. The only brother I have left. Please do not sacrifice yourself so readily." 

Tobirama huffed, letting him do so for a moment, before shoving Hashirama back onto his heels. "Go get undressed and take a shower, Anija. You smell of perfume." 

"And whose fault is that?" Hashirama said. "Someone left me alone with the delegates!" 

"Father was present, I assure you you weren't alone." 

But at least Hashirama's mood was… if not lifted, at least not as black as it was when he'd entered, and Tobirama watched his brother exit as he absently rubbed his own wrists, remembering the pressure Hashirama's shock on his wrists. 

Hashirama was right. Tobirama didn't know Madara. 

That should be rectified.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I just write myself into a fucking corner? I did write myself into a fucking corner. At this rate it's going to be the weirdest sort of genderbender, where a female-bodied but male-presenting Tobirama is going to try to pass as female and then eventually everyone, including Madara and myself, will get a fucking headache. Whose head is going to explode first is up in the air. 
> 
> Except Tobirama's. Tobirama doesn't care.


	5. Part 4: To be a Good Husband

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The negotiations with the Uzumaki proceed apace.

The negotiations proceeded apace. 

Hashirama wasn't entirely eager, and it wasn't like the Uzumaki were desperate, so it could have taken months as these things could go - what services they would have wanted from the Senju, and what goods they could expect from the Uzumaki in addition to their seals expertise seeing that there was the possibility of the mokuton entering their bloodline (which at least one of the delegates had expressed some interest in studying, as if they could possibly approximate something from his ability. Tobirama had his own doubts but he kept quiet about it.) 

Even Butsuma was a little reticent about allowing a full-scale study of his son - especially with the possibility of what the sharp-eyed Uzumaki might discover. It was better that only the future-wife be allowed to do so, and only after marriage. 

Hashirama's own rapid healing and facility with the mokuton was enough of a bargaining chip that the negotiations could have dragged on for the better part of a year. 

Probably would have, really, in between the skirmishes that they _still_ had with the Uchiha, during which Tobirama had not managed to find a way to get to observe Madara in person, away from the battlefield. 

(Let alone get to know him.) 

(How many times had Tobirama gone down to the river in the vain hope that Madara might show up? The man was infuriating, he was wasting Tobirama's time.) 

It probably would have. 

Except that in the last skirmish, they discovered that a small persistent wound that Butsuma had sustained before but dismissed as too small to bother with, had suddenly progressed into a full-blown infection, and even Hashirama's healing had limits. 

That numbness, when had Tobirama last felt it? 

Ah, he thought, when he'd seen Tobirama's body laid out in the hall, so long ago.

* * *

Tobirama hadn't been alone with his Father when Butsuma had passed away, but the last touch of Butsuma's hand to his cheek, as he curled his own fingers over his Father's wrist, that. That was his alone. 

The wound had been caused by the war with the Uchiha. The war, Tobirama thought, had to _end_.

* * *

Hashirama had gone to sleep after Tobirama had made Touka tear him away from Father's side, leaving him to the horde of healers they had who _weren't exhausted_. 

He'd gone to sleep the son of Senju Butsuma, and woken up three hours later the Head of the Senju Clan. 

He could halt the negotiations, if he wanted; he was in a period of mourning and would not surprise anyone at all. 

But now was a time of vulnerability, as the Elders were very pointed in reminding Hashirama, and as young as Hashirama was, he was nearly eighteen and it was not so young as to not care for a Clan's future. 

Even if he weren't so eager to continue with the Uzumaki, he was going to have to marry anyway. If not to make a new alliance, then to strengthen an old one. 

If not to strengthen an old alliance, then to strengthen the bloodline - there were many great families in history that had fallen because of a succession crisis. Too few heirs, or heirs too _weak_.

There was no point looking to Tobirama, he knew. Not with the way Tobirama was so blindingly, heartbreakingly loyal - Hashirama could not ask him to get married yet, not like this. 

Hashirama was eighteen, and he was going to marry the Princess of Uzushio Uzumaki Mito.

* * *

Time was running short for Tobirama to get to know this damned Uchiha. 

The negotiations with the Uzumaki were in the final stages, and if he couldn't come up with an alternative for his Anija to approve of, well. 

He couldn't stand the idea of Hashirama being that unhappy, for all that arranged marriages such as these weren't necessarily _unhappy_ , but the complete loss of Uchiha Madara would definitely result in a long term regret. 

They were shinobi. Regret was not really part of their lives - people died, things happened out of their control, missions failed. That was just how life was; but it did mean that when it could be avoided, they did avoid it where they could.

Weeks of lurking about and around the river and nothing to show for it, until one day he suddenly felt the approach of a fiery chakra to the river, just as Tobirama was returning to his own Clan on the tail end of his mission. 

Tobirama considered the fact that he was _really very tired_ , and had the entire span of half a country to run across, and the irritatingly sparse appearances of Uchiha _fucking_ Madara, and made a decision.

Time to find this benighted Uchiha right now, even if he had the worst timing.

* * *

Tobirama was so exhausted, having run straight across Fire Country and cutting through Senju territory but avoiding the compound to get to the Naka River before Madara up and ran away like a little rabbit, _and_ focusing so tightly on Madara's presence and heading, that he could be excused with not bothering with niceties, just taking a short-cut via the River's tributary itself and letting it wash him straight up to Madara. 

"What the fuck," Madara said when Tobirama stepped out of the river and almost into Madara. "Senju!" 

"Yes," Tobirama said, and Madara had been surprised enough not to set him on fire straight away, so that was promising, he had an opening. 

He should take it. 

"Uchiha Madara," he said, ignoring the way Madara's eyes narrowed. "We should get married." 

"What?!" Madara said. 

"Excuse me what the actual _fuck_ ," Izuna said. 

"Oh," Tobirama said, suddenly realising what Madara's huge fuzzy flame of a chakra signature was hiding. "Were you bringing him here to ambush Anija?" 

"What? No!" 

"I knew that you were up to something nefarious against Niisan!" Izuna yelled while Madara looked like he didn't know which avenue of the conversation to deal with first. "You Senju can't be trusted! You are going to ambush him with _marriage_!" 

Tobirama turned to direct his unimpressed gaze up into the trees above Madara. 

Madara took a deep breath, and obviously decided that that was a good idea to deal with his younger brother first. Tobirama approved of his priorities. 

"Hashirama would _not_ have done that," Madara said. "Remember that I'm Clan Head and I can damn well take care of myself, Izuna!" 

"Oh, you're Clan Head now?" Tobirama said, politely. "Congratulations, I suppose." 

"Thank you. I'll deal with you later," Madara said. "Go _home_ , Izuna!" 

"No! You can't trust him! Besides, what can he mean by you _marry_ him?! That's not possible!" 

Tobirama could _see_ something tick in Madara's brain, before the man turned to look at Tobirama as well. "That is true. As much as I - I don't even understand where this offer is coming from -" 

"Don't trust anything the Senju says!" 

Madara flicked an arm towards Izuna, and Izuna fell into a resentful silence. 

"Did your brother send you?" 

"No," Tobirama said, entirely truthful.

He did note the somewhat disappointed note in Madara's mood, a little dimming in his chakra, which meant that at least in this, Madara had something of a mutual affection for Anija. 

This was the right thing to do. 

"I heard that he was getting married," Madara said, stiffly. "I suppose that I could offer congratulations." 

"On the _battlefield_ ," Izuna muttered. 

They both ignored him. 

"I believe Anija would be pleased to receive them," Tobirama said. 

Madara nodded, shortly. "Then, as to your proposal -" 

"I am of the correct rank, Anija's current heir," Tobirama pointed out. "And therefore your Clan cannot protest the sincerity of an alliance with us." 

Not when Hashirama was going to get married to the Uzumaki. It was obvious, by now, to the Uchiha, that this was an alliance that was thoroughly to the Uchiha's disadvantage, even without Tobirama knowing anything else about the Uchiha's personal circumstances. The Uzumaki were powerful enough that this would tip the balance far more than the Uchiha could do, short of literally marrying a Daimyo's daughter. 

"You're a man," Madara said. 

"Yeah," Izuna snorted. "Butsuma's daughters are _dead_ , it's not like we're _that_ stupid, Senju!" 

"My brother," Tobirama said, because he wasn't going to give Hashirama away, not right now, at least, "is dead." 

"No, you said Hashirama -" 

"My brother _Tobirama_ had died years ago," Tobirama said. And when both Uchiha's silence dragged on, Tobirama loosened the Jutsu's hold on him, and stepped in closer to Madara. Against all propriety, he grabbed Madara's wrist, and yanked it up. 

If he had to twist closer to Madara to avoid the kunai flung in his direction from Izuna, it still proved his point a lot faster than if he'd kept talking. 

Madara gaped like a fish. 

"Wait wh- you're the sister?!" 

"He's the _what?_ " 

"I am," Tobirama said, because they were both a little slow and it seemed like he needed to be clear, "the sister. Yes." 

"I feel like," Madara said, to Izuna, "you should have noticed this earlier."

* * *

Needless to say, Hashirama did not take this news very lightly. 

He had kept tabs on the Uchiha of course, and what he'd known of them was that they were in mourning for the death of Uchiha Tajima, and were not particularly keen on weddings even for the same reason that Hashirama was marrying Uzumaki Mito. 

But being told that Tobirama had proposed, and obtained an acceptance of marriage from Madara was a little much to take. 

"We'll work out the details," Tobirama said, "Their period of mourning is a year after all, but Madara too cannot keep holding out for so long." 

"But Tobira -" 

"And he did point out that I was a little young," Tobirama said. "I agreed to wait for a year." 

"I feel like it should be _me_ proposing that you wait," Hashirama protested. "I am your clan head!" 

Tobirama turned, and caught Hashirama's wrist, fingers tightening over his pulse. Hashirama stopped talking. 

"You're my Anija," Tobirama said. "And I would do anything to make you happy. You know that." 

Hashirama was Tobirama's Anija, first and foremost, Hashirama realised. 

Anija, not necessarily Clan head. Maybe Clan head was Butsuma, and maybe always would be, as far as Tobirama could remember, he was still young enough for that. 

Duty was owed to the Clan Head, but Tobirama wanted only his Anija's happiness. And while Hashirama could forbid it, could tell Tobirama no - because … 

"You are my _brother_ ," Hashirama said, soft. 

"Anija is Clan Head," Tobirama said. "Anija is strong, tall and rooted. Anija cannot change who he is." 

Tobirama went down to his knees, and Hashirama followed. "Your little brother," Tobirama said, "is far more flexible than you are. Let me make this choice for Anija."

Hashirama swallowed. His pulse beat against Tobirama's thumb, and he knew Tobirama could read him like this, his worry and his concern, and his conflict all at this. 

"It is no sacrifice on my part," Tobirama said. "This way, the Uchiha will be saved." 

_For you_ , Hashirama heard, and had to acquiesce.

* * *

"That is," Mito-oneesama said the morning after the wedding night, when Tobirama joined them for breakfast, "one of the tidiest seal-work I've seen from a non-fuuinjutsu master." 

"Anija," Tobirama said. He'd _showed_ her?

Hashirama made a little hand gesture, looking a little redder than usual.

"Have you considered going to Uzushio to study?" Mito-oneesama said, putting her fan down on the table for her tea. 

"Anija needs me here," Tobirama said, knowing his own face was a little pinker. 

"With the ceasefire," Mito-neesama said, "I don't think your presence here is essential. Goshujin-sama," which made Hashirama turn redder, "do you not agree? Your little brother should have the opportunity to expand his talents in this area." 

"But," Hashirama said before Tobirama could open his mouth, "the - he and Madara-" 

"Tobirama wouldn't handle the negotiations on his own behalf," Mito-oneesama said. She smiled faintly at Hashirama until Anija blushed harder. "Goshujin-sama should be dealing directly with the Uchiha, after all." 

"I wouldn't be able to stay in Uzushio for very long," Tobirama said, to try and spare Anija the embarrassment of - 

Well. 

It looked like Hashirama had not actually disliked the wedding as much as he'd dreaded. 

And this way, Hashirama would get to openly spend as much time as he wanted with Madara. 

"Two years would be more than sufficient to learn quite a bit," Mito-oneesama told Tobirama. "You have talent, let us help hone it." 

"And in return?" 

"Typhoons do ravage Uzushio's coasts annually, there is only so much our seals can do," Mito-oneesama said. "Perhaps you can work with my Clan to see what might be done." 

Two years in Uzushio, Tobirama thought, and peace - both in the form that Butsuma had envisioned, and how Hashirama had wanted it, spreading out in front of them all. 

It was a future Tobirama thought he could believe in.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue will come up and hint at how EVERYTHING is… resolved. But bear in mind that marriage is not about love, not really. It's about mutual respect, and the performance of proper roles and duties. Traditional East Asian marriage doesn't really concern themselves about who fucks whom, or what's shoved where, as LONG as the proper legal heirs are made in the proper legal fashion. Ie: as long as Hashirama doesn't suddenly pop up pregnant, _no one will care who the hell he's banging on the side_. Just like being a man is being about performing the _right_ duties of an heir, a son, brother and a _husband_ , being a husband is about continuing the family line in the proper fashion. 
> 
> And yes, Tobirama essentially dropped the bomb of "Oh yeah, I'm female bodied and therefore qualified to marry your Clan Head as Senju Clan head's sister. Also, I've been handing Izuna his ass for ALL OUR LIFE SO FAR bai." And then fucked off to Uzushio for two years while the Uchiha clan screamed. A lot. 
> 
> Izuna: I HATE YOU.


	6. Epilogue: To Make a Choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BEHOLD. A MAN. -- _Diogenes_

"I still can't believe," Madara said, while Tobirama sat primly on the bed, "that I didn't know, all this time -" 

"Anija told me that he'd told you," Tobirama said, "Is it really so hard to believe by now?" 

"How does Mito-hime _deal_ with it?" 

"The same way that I do," Tobirama said, and pulled his personal storage scroll from his sleeve, and unsealed it. 

A length of heavy white jade fell out into his lap. 

"... that is in no way your size," Madara said flatly. 

"We can compare later," Tobirama said, very helpfully. 

"You Senju are a menace," Madara grumbled. "Hashirama didn't use one of _those_." 

"I," Tobirama said, "am flexible. But I've been using the jutsu for almost five days straight on a mission, so I'd really rather not." 

Madara glared at Tobirama's lap. 

"Fine," he said, starting to strip. "I expect a lot of oil." 

"Of course, Goshujin-sama," Tobirama said. 

"You should have married Izuna," Madara grumbled, and dropped his yukata to the floor.

* * *

In the end, what does it take to be True Heir, to be a Son, to be a Brother, and to be a Husband? 

What does it mean, to be a man? 

_It is to make that choice, over and over._

_To be a man._

END

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised Evocates like, 500% more wrists because uh, hot and sexy, so I overdid it and had mentions of wrists _eight times_ in this entire fic, bringing it up by 800%. (maybe more. MENTIONS OF WRISTS count, Evocates, not _unique scenes_ , therefore I delivered!)
> 
> Hopefully that will help distract evocates from the complete stupid turn of tone this took at a _certain point_ I'm sure you all have noticed by now. 
> 
> Oh god this fic, I cannot - there were at least two points where I had literally written myself into a corner and wanted to scream, so hard, because they were being so fucking ANNOYING. 
> 
> In the end I decided that while Tobirama sees himself as male, he isn't quite as rigid in his self-perception as Hashirama is. And Tobirama can _afford_ this flexibility. Both in his nature of water affinity, and the fact that Tobirama had shaped himself to fit Hashirama's needs so well, he is far more flexible in his own person and identity than Hashirama is. 
> 
> Also have a hint that there is some Hashirama/Madara happening ANYWAY. Not technically a foursome - but all parties are aware and are fine with it. 
> 
> Finally over. 
> 
> How Asian is this by now? 
> 
> I don't know. 
> 
> Fuck.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Did I also spend like a couple of days poking at the chapter titles? I am very pleased somehow when I click the chapter index and admire all the chapter titles and how nicely the prologue and epilogue bracket the whole fic, and call back directly to the fic's title. *super pleased* 
> 
> And yes, this is not just implied HashiMada, it even implies/hints as to HOW Hashirama and Madara bang - Hashirama never uses his female form with Madara, even though they both now know he had been born with a female body, because Hashirama would never ever be subordinate to Madara in _any_ fashion. Hashirama would never be _wife_ to Madara the way Tobirama officially is.
> 
> Meanwhile Tobirama does not care. 
> 
> And just pegs Madara in whichever form he happens to be in. GG. 


End file.
